THE CRITIC

NZ Truth, Issue 873, 19 August 1922, Page 1

THE CRITIC

"Within the Law." — Bookmaking. Daily paper heading: "Parliament at Work." When? . There is talk of forming a North Island. bacon pool. Why another? What is the matter with the baking pools at Rotorua? "Critic" was not surprised to read m the paper the other night: "Artistic spirit gone." Gone into a thimble - measure, .like other spirits. According to. the- ginks With a mania for statistics, every time we breathe, someone m the world dies. On 'the other hand; if we stop breath- , ing, we die ourselves. ■ It is a very painful dilemma. : : 4, '.: : : Leader-writers are telling us "with profundity of the acrobatics of the crown and mark, and the depreciation of the franc and lira. "Critic" rejoices m the depreciation of the frank liar whose acrobatics are usually crowneel with the mark of failure. . ' Suggestive advertisement m a Wellington daily: Black Silk Umbrella,' left Thorndon car, or Station; 2nd AugustReward. Welfare League Office. Now, how can it look after the other fellow's welfare if it cannot v mind its own — umbrella? "Those who benefit from labor most, sit - aloft and keep on piling up their wealth." — Utterance of Wellington "Reform" Mayor Wright. "Critic," without authority from Willie Masses', calls Robert to order and at the same says "Hear, hear!" In other words, "Them's my sentiments." "It is estimated that there will be a glut of pigs on the New Zealand market this year," declares an official of the Dairy Farmers' Union. "Critic" is aware that this is election year, but he raises his voice m emphatic protest against this hoggish reflection on the plethora of candidates on" the horizon. . . ' ... . . Some time ago a returned soldier threatened to fade off his farm up north. A pathetic .note hurried back from the Lands Department advising the. despondent digger to "do your best and trust m the board for lenient treatment." The digger decided to remain, although he assured me that he was quite satisfied that "Board" was a typist's error for "Lord." Time has shown that he was not mistaken. '"Some Kid" again: When looking into a returned N.Z. digger's affairs a certain district Land Board discovered that the warrior had named his choice dairy herd after members of that august body. It is said the commissioner gfeatly enjoyed the joke" until he found at the' bottom of the list a pedigree bull bearing his own name. Then .the clerk hurried on to the next business. "Some Kid"- caught by a cadger: "See that there notice?" said, a pommelooking person to me m Queen Street, Auckland, pointing to a "Better Times Ahead" poster. "Yes," I replied. "Well, 'ow about the price of a feed mister?" There was corn m Egypt so I threw him a bob. Then he breasted up and opened out: "I don't want tor be 'arcl mister (long pause) ; mind, I don't want ter be\' ar <:l (longer pause), b",it a feed corsts one an' six." Prof7.rie words began to dance on mj| tongue and the cadger disappeared.'. "Critic" believes m erring on . the safe side — if ever he errs at all. He finds himself m the same company as Robert Wright, a stalwart "Reform" M.P., who has had the audacity to de« clare that there are wealthy citizens who have- made fortunes v during fthe war and who could easily give sufficient, without hurting themselves, to carry on the unemployment fund for a coupio of months. "He had m mind half a dozen such men." Make it the old bakers' dozen, Bob, and as many months, and we are prepared to say that you really are Wright — although it's a long time coming. Mr. Justice Salmond has scarcely what "Critic" would describe as a jocular, breezy manner on the Bench, and when he thaws into a smile there is generally something for everyone" else thereabout to actually laugh at. He did thaw and they did laugh when a Maori witness haled as Anana or Anania — no one could swear to fine points of spelling — very volubly laid it down that he had a final "s" to his name, took the oath m great style, and gave 'it out that he would speak the truth and nothing else. The law- " yer who called him believed m him all right. "Remember what Ananias said," he harangued the jury, "remember his evidence." Sir John really smiled, and those who could reach the door went out and very nearly exploded; some of them did. -As a good -churchman, "Critic" gets a lot of church. literature. He came across a curious effort the . other day. The writer frankly admitted m double ' meaning phraseology that "the congregations have not been as good as they were a year ago." One reason assigned was .that "the Church is not so warm as it should be. . . . It is difficult to make people enthusiastic when t<hey are freezing." Then came the shock: • It is difficult, to ci'eaf,e a revolution m cold climates; and it is a peculiar and significant fact that the great days of violence m the French Revolution coincide with days of frantic heat. Why not warm the Church? Is this a highbrow way of inciting to violence? Or is it merely an odious i.'l-adviscd comparison?, In all lcinclr.esgr "Critic'V changes the last line of the above quotation to: T Why not warn- the Church?

"Closer settlement.*' — Youthful k'nuts and flappers. ■ I "Crafts decaying," said the news heading. What a pity it wasn't "grafts". "Ourselves and' * the UniVeTse."— *" ' Heading m a contemporary. Quite a new item on the toast list. Dear old Italy. Indulging m bloody riots and initiating an anti-swearing' • campaign at the same time. "Curtailed . . "weather reports," are announced from Aussieland. Why are the weather reports like the end of a dirty dog? As evidence of the immense strides . being. made m the motor industry-it is confidently asserted that Henry Ford Will soon be able to turn, out enough ; motor cars to supply, the market forFord accessories. . • » , "Critic" joins m- the", general chorus of thanksgiving at the- announcement that our railways are losing only half the amount that Was recorded a year or so ago. The present loss is only a little over £2000 a day. Congratulations! . • • : "Critic" has received a piteous effusion from a Porter person bewailing • the hard lot of himself and his--fellow-clerks anent the iniquitous war practice of serving . unmixed- mustard with ' .their daily dole of meat. This is still ' the -custom at most restaurants, and it certainly is a vogue s that wants slathering up badly. As* an economy stunt it no linger cuts any- ice, and it could be quickly stopped were the visitors to " restaurants to v pour thewhole of, the contents of the dry mustard pots upon their plates and leave what they didn't require •well-mixed with the gravy. Mr Proprietor would very soon get busy "mixing • it," though possibly m more ways than one. . "Grace Before Meat" writes: "Was m a country store the other day where several other ladies were doing their matutinal shopping. Enter the postman, with the comment 'Heard the latest?' General chorus of 'No.' 'Well, you know that girl that was) married last Week; she's adopted a baby.' Whereat the wife of a local big-wig: 'Has she; well, I've been married eleven years and I can't afford to keep a baby. It takes me all my time to kee D this little dog.' There ign't much m this little paragraph, • but I've got five fatherless children of my own, the eldest just , of working age, and I wouldn't give any of them up to keep a blasted dog. We're poor, but, oh, so nappy." Grace is welcome to this little bit. of publicity. : : : : : : "Critic" had the good fortune ,to travel south last week, purely on business, not connected with the Grand National meeting, and had as fellowpassenger Ratana and a dusky crowd of his adherents, who were on their way to a tangi at Ricearton or Kaiapoi or somewhere. They beguiled the time with community singing, striking the concertina's melancholy string and blowing the spirit-stirring harp like anything. Some of their hymns would have faithhealed a fish, as for instance when they cheerfully warbled to the tune of "Jadda": Venus, Venus, we must put some clothes on you ; Venus, Venus, we must put some clothes on you. You are the Aphrodite of our town. And all the wowsers -will simply ipaint you brown Venus, Venus, we must put some clothes on you. No wonder Ratana's brand of religion is popular with his army of dusky, compatriots, ONE 'HUNDRED YEARS AGO. I don't know what they used to do. One hundred years ago, They didn't have electric trams, Nor motor cars, you know. And aeroplanes were quite unkno"W», The jazz band wasn't out, Oh! what a fearful lot of fun, They had to do without. No gramophones m those old days Made hideous the night, And after .work for trolley cars They didn't have to fight. No drainage problems worried theaj, They lived without quite well, But then their noses weren't like ours. They didn't mind the smell. No picture shows for them at night, No. musical revues, • J No 4 wireless telephone to send Them all the latest news; No hanging on receivers. And shouting, "Are you there?" )• But pubs were open later then f " So p'raps they didn't care. . ' Girls did'nt used to powder up, Nor paint up fit to kill,' Nor give "the glad" to all that passed, To Tom or Dick .or Bill." They didn't wear their dresses short. Or wear their blouses, low; I thank my stars I wasn't born. . One hundred years ago. They never saw the .bunny hugr, Nor heard the turkey trot, They didn't used to worry then About that sort of rot. But politics m those far days, Must have been very slow, Bill Massey would have stirred things up' A hundred years ago. No talk of Prohibition then, Why now the question raise? Their beer was pure : m those good • times, ' It's chemicals these days. But, all considered, I'm. content To live In modern ways, For while there's lots to rail abaefo I find there's lots to praise. * — D, C. Deft*.

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